Heroes
by The Rabid Toenail
Summary: Despite all that's passed between them, Alfred strives to prove to Ivan that if they work together, they can make a difference, at least to someone-- a very small someone. Some AmericaxRussia


**Heroes**

"Alfred," Ivan growled warningly, his eyes flashing with righteous anger as he loomed ominously over the smaller man, "This stops now."

Alfred couldn't help the small chortle that escaped—really, this incident would've gone down in his diary as the most terrifying incident of his day, if only the other man hadn't been cradling a small child in his arms. It was unfortunate that Ivan couldn't appreciate the humor in the situation, though, because otherwise, he wouldn't be glaring hard enough to nearly bore holes into Alfred's skull. Still, Ivan looked less than frightening as he cuddled the fair-haired boy protectively to himself, his arms tight around the tiny child's torso, even as his eyes blazed.

"_Alfred_," he growled, nearly baring his teeth.

"Sorry, sorry," Alfred murmured, hiding his smile behind his hand. He allowed himself another moment of warm mirth before making an effort at seriousness. "You're right. It's a problem."

"You Americans—you think there's a return policy for children, _da_?"

"No, of course not!" Alfred drew himself up with an air of importance. "Children are very important to us in America!"

"But not Russian children, _da?_ Not my children." Ivan almost looked hurt, his steely eyes looking for a moment more like rotted wood than metal.

"It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Good Americans—_real _Americans—wouldn't treat kids like that."

"But they did." Ivan's tone was flinty, unwavering.

"I know. I know, and I'm sorry." Alfred fidgeted, staring at his shoes. People made him feel like this a lot—childish and like he'd done something wrong—despite the way he acted. He and his country had a lot to be sorry about, and sometimes he could ignore it, but with Russia—with _Ivan_, he had to say it, because there was too much between them already, decades and decades of gnashed teeth and glancing blows.

He threw the next words out the way someone might cast a fishing line, gently and hopefully, but with a tinge of resignation. "If it had been me, I'd have cherished him," he whispered, so low Ivan could barely hear it.

But Ivan did hear it, and he scoffed at the soft words. "You say that now." The words were an accusation, leveled like cold steel against his neck.

"I would," Alfred reaffirmed, raising his eyes to stare evenly at the tall man. "Because that child is a part of you." Ivan glared at him when he stepped closer, his shoulders tightening, but after a moment he relaxed and allowed the intrusion into his personal space. The little boy was cuddled sleepily against Ivan, his little arms clutching at the man's scarf. His hair looked as soft and pale as the snow, and Alfred passed a hand gently over a little curl, smiling at the Russian's warning look.

"Stop that."

Normally Alfred would try the man's patience, but he knew better. He knew Ivan was hurt, his nation was hurt, and he had to bark and growl like this so no one would notice how frail he was, even if it was obvious enough to anyone who paid attention. And Alfred paid him _lots_ of attention, couldn't tear his eyes from the suggestions of frailty beneath his big coat. He'd been watching for decades, peeling his eyes for signs of weakness, but he didn't have the same reasons now as he had then.

"You don't have to worry about it. I'll take care of it—make sure it doesn't happen again." Alfred did his best to be cheerful, smiled like he believed he spoke the truth, but Ivan still didn't buy it.

"You always do this," Ivan groaned, the weariness in his voice showing in his eyes too.

"I'll protect them." Alfred didn't let the plea slip into his voice, but they both knew it was there—_please let me protect them_. _Please believe I can—_because Alfred was hurt, shellshocked, by this too, and he needed someone else to believe in him if he was going to believe in himself.

"I know you want to." Ivan didn't have to say anything else; the tang of his disbelief hung in the air, heavy enough to taste. "But you can't. You're not a superpower anymore."

"Well—well, neither are you," Alfred retorted, feeling foolish.

Ivan looked peeved, like he was about to say something particularly terrible, when the child in his arms shifted sleepily. Russia's face was like the sky after a storm, furrowed brows relaxing and frowning lips turning up in a smile like gray clouds rolling back to let sunshine in. He cooed soft, foreign words that Alfred couldn't have begun to understand, but the gentle tone meant the same thing in any language, all soft lullaby-sounds.

Jealously wishing those same tender words and glances were for him, Alfred turned away and pointedly didn't watch as Ivan settled himself on the couch, lulling the child back to sleep with warm murmurs, forming too sweetly domestic a picture. He stood awkwardly, nervousness making his hands clammy, until Ivan made an exasperated sound and his pale eyes rose to meet Alfred's.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Alfred watched as Ivan's free hand descended once, twice, on the couch beside him, two smart taps. Encouraged, and calmed by the assurance that the other man wouldn't behave too rashly with a child in his lap, Alfred took the seat next to him.

"They always look so sweet when they're sleeping," Alfred murmured fondly, favoring the child in Russian's lap with a smile.

Ivan gave a hum of agreement, threading his big fingers through the child's hair with surprising tenderness.

"Ivan, I… I'm really sorry," Alfred whispered, pressing his hands his forehead, his brow wrinkling with worry. "I can't believe that people—_my_ people—would do this."

Ivan eyed him warily for a moment, and Alfred was past expecting a response when a big, warm hand settled on his shoulder an eternity later. "Not all of our people are like us," he answered simply, as if that were that, even though Alfred knew there were centuries of pain behind those words.

"But a lot of them are," Alfred finally managed, cheered intensely by Ivan's touch. "A lot of our people are really good." He was able to beam as brightly as always when he turned to face the other man, as if his thousand-watt smile could solve all the problems in the world—as if a dream and a grin were all that anyone needed to be a hero.

…And in some small way, that was true.

Alfred certainly felt like a hero when Ivan shifted wordlessly, leaning in closer so that the little boy was snuggled against both of them. "We can make this work, _da_?"

"Yeah," Alfred nearly whooped, his face brightening like a dozen suns.

"Shh, shh. Don't wake him," Ivan whispered, and Alfred felt his heart melt like Russian spring, a torrent of sudden warmth that spread across his face.

Alfred leaned into the other's side and was content to breathe in Ivan's scent, warmer and happier than he had been in a long time as his and Ivan's fingers brushed together as they both smoothed the little one's hair.

"Seems like you're a good daddy," Alfred said cheekily, leaning his shoulder into Ivan's with aplomb.

"Someone has to be," Ivan replied, but the words were almost teasing, not scathing, and Alfred laughed and reached up to ruffle the other man's hair.

Ivan blinked owlishly at him, but didn't pull away. "You'll just have to teach me," Alfred whispered gleefully, almost conspiratorially, and was rewarded when something approaching a genuine smile cracked across Ivan's face.

"Of course, Alfred," Ivan murmured, awkwardly slipping an arm around Alfred's shoulders. "Of course."

And together, they became heroes—at least to one little boy.

**AN:**

(This is a Hetalia fanfic. That means that Hetalia isn't mine, which means that I am horribly jealous of Hidekaz Himaruya. Oh well.)

Oh god that ending was cheesy . I kept telling this story to be cute and fluffy, and Russia kept telling me that he didn't want to have anything to do with anything that was cute and fluffy except maybe vodka bottles dressed in polar bear suits, so this is what came out.

So, yeah. Stuff. Hope you enjoyed it :D. And if not, I hope it at least didn't make you vomit. Woo!


End file.
